Distress and anguish fill him with terror; troubles overwhelm him, like a king poised to attack, because he shakes his fist at God and vaunts himself against the Almighty, defiantly charging against him with a thick, strong shield. -Job 15: 24-26, NIV
Nevertheless, he managed to survive. A tad puny, but he survived. Guess that's why the named him Holden; in some sort of way, that was a self-fulfilling, twisted prophecy on a 5:00 A.M. bullet train. It was made out of steel, like Superman's heart. Like his heart, too.
“Ma'am, you seem familiar”, he said.
“What?”, she responded.
“I said, ma'am, you seem familiar.”
“Oh, are you from the St. Nicholas-”
“No. I was your neighbor from '89.”
“Oh?”
“You used to babysit me when Mom and Dad were out.”
“Oh. I finally get a glimpse of you. May you say your name, sonny boy?”, she looked at him as she titled her head.
“Name is Holden, miss. I'm sure your name starts with an--”
“Ruth...I am named...”, while battling all of her senility, “Ruth.”